


The Cat and the Lion

by Only_Happy_Endings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, McGonagall adopts Harry, Mentor Minerva McGonagall, Minerva McGonagall Raises Harry Potter, Protective Minerva McGonagall, The Golden Trio, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_Happy_Endings/pseuds/Only_Happy_Endings
Summary: Minerva McGonagall is stern, but she cares deeply for her students. She notices when a letter to a first year gets addressed to the cupboard under the stairs, and she keeps a close eye on the boy.Its a slow burn McGonagall adopts Harry AU, Folks.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Minerva McGonagall & Harry Potter
Comments: 32
Kudos: 227





	1. The Cupboard Under the Stairs

In the summer of 1991, in an office overlooking the quidditch pitch, Professor McGonagall writes a letter addressed to Mr. H Potter, The cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. The letters themselves she has an enchanted quill make copies off, but she likes to take the time out every year to hand write the addresses of the first year students herself. She frowns for a minute, looking at the address. The Cupboard under the stairs. She had told Dumbledore years ago that the Dursleys were a no good sort, but he had insisted, claiming to have reasons she knew nothing about. Perhaps the boy has a fort under the stairs, and falls asleep there from time to time, she thinks to herself. Stranger addresses had happened. She sends the letter off with the rest.

When the magical seal alerts her that the letter was never opened, she sends another, and then another, until Hagrid gets sent to deliver the letter to the boy in person. She would have gone herself, but the last few weeks before term are such a busy time, and she has a lot of duties to attend to as deputy headmistress. She’d be seeing him at the start of term, in any case.

A few months later, she stands at the head of the stairs, ready as always to give her talk to the first years. She looks over the crowd of nervous 11 year olds in black cloaks and standing in the middle of the crowd, catches her first glimpse of Harry since he was a baby. There's no doubt in her mind who he is. The boy looks just like his father, all dark skin and sharp cheekbones. Except his eyes. Shining out from behind an unruly mop of black hair is Lily Evans eyes, just as full of nerves and wonder as they were when she first saw them on the 11 year old red haired girl standing exactly where he is now. Forcing her eyes away and addressing the rest of the crowd, she gives her normal speech about houses and sortings, and turns to lead them into the Great Hall.

Feelings of impatience creep in on McGonagall as she puts the sorting hat on the head of each new student. Already this small black haired child has captured her attention, and she’s eager to see if he will be joining her house like his parents before him. Eventually, the hat is placed on his head, and the whole hall waits in baited silence while the hat seems to have a quiet conversation with the boy. Minerva can't help but think back to her own sorting, so many years ago. It had taken the hat almost 6 minutes to decide between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The moments tick by painfully slow, and then, with a defining roar, the hat shouts our GRYFFINDOR, and the hall breaks out into applause as a pale faced Harry scampers off to join Mr. Weasley at the table. McGonagall releases a breath of relief she didn’t realize she was holding and smiles up at Dumbledore before moving on to the next child. 

He’s skinnier than he should be, she thinks. No doubt the shortest and smallest boy in the year, smaller than even Ms. Granger. She dismisses this at first. Some boys hit their growth spurt late, after all, and James had not been a particularly tall boy at that age either, if she recalls correctly. Nonetheless, she decides to keep a sharper than normal eye on him the rest of the year. Something about those muggles doesn’t sit quite right with her. He has a healthy appetite for a boy his age, however, and matches Weasley bite for bite at every meal. The two of them seem to have grown quite close. By the time the year is coming to a close, he’s shot up at least two inches and his face has filled out nicely. 

On Halloween, Harry, along with Weasley and Granger, take out a full grown mountain troll in the bathroom. Strange things are going on at Hogwarts, and it puts McGonagall on edge, but she has to admit she’s never been prouder of her little lions. She awards them house points instead of detentions.

It's directly after the quidditch incident that an unsettling picture starts to take shape in McGonagall’s mind. It’s a fine sunny day, and she goes to open her window to let in the nice fall breeze, when she notices a commotion going on outside. The first years are gathered on the lawn, all holding the school brooms, when she sees figures in the air, but no that can't be - It’s Harry! And he’s diving to the ground after something, shoulder to shoulder with a shock of white hair that must be Malfoy. Having grown up with muggles, she knows he’s never been on a broom before, and yet, his balance is impeccable for a boy his age. She stands frozen to the spot, watching in shock as his natural instincts lead him to pull up the front of the broom just in time to save himself from crashing to the ground. He holds aloft whatever he caught in his hand as the rest of the Gryffindors run to congratulate him. Breaking out of her trance, McGonagall quickly pulls on her cloak and sprints down the stairs.

She marches onto the field, her face the picture of the stern teacher she’s known to be, and calls his name. Immediately all the color leaves the boy's face. He did break the school rules, so she decides not to let him off the hook immediately, and simply tells him to follow her. She marches them all the way to Quirrell’s classroom and asks to borrow Wood. It's only when she turns around to introduce the two boys (who she’s confident will be fast friends) that she notices how hard Harry is shaking. She reaches out a hand to put on the boy's shoulder to assure him he is not in trouble, only to notice him almost imperceptibly shift out of the way. A fierce anger washes over her at the realization that one of her lions had clearly known a less than soft touch before. Unfortunately, Oliver was also standing in the hallway, so she quickly smoothed her features and began her introductions. Once it sunk in that Harry wasn’t in trouble, he visibly began to relax, and McGonagall felt something inside her untense, if just a little bit.

The image of how scared Harry was stays with her. She starts to think back about the letter addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. The skinny state the boy arrived in. His fear the moment he got into trouble, and she feels a deep protectiveness begin to wash over her. There’s nothing she can do while school is in session but look after the boy herself (which she intends to do), and she decides that once he is back with the Durselys, she’ll be going to check on the state of Harry’s home life herself, Dumbledore's insistence be damned. Something is definitely not right at the Dursleys, and she intends to find out what.

In a fit of passion, she pulls a piece of parchment out of her desk and writes an order to Quality Quidditch Supplies for a new broom, to be sent to the castle immediately. She doesn't make much on a professor salary, but the bright smile on Harry’s face at breakfast is worth every sickle. 

He stays in the castle over Christmas break, even though he has no reason not to go home. McGonagall notices. 

Winter gives way to spring suddenly that year, and Harry undergoes a great ordeal. She visits him in the hospital wing but he’s asleep, surrounded by cards and candy (and, notably, a toilet seat) from friends and admirers. She leaves, worried about overstepping her boundaries as a professor. She feels terribly guilty about ignoring him and his friends when they told him Snape was going to break into the vault, but she had assumed that three 11 year olds had simply discovered a truth and let their overactive imaginations make the best of them. In truth, she feels more angry at Dumbledore for allowing such dangers inside a school of all places to begin with.

Reflecting back now, she regrets that she underestimated Harry and his friends. It makes her worried, seeing him in bed, looking worn out and so so small. She wonders what else she may have underestimated. Making sure he is healing alright is just another reason she needs to check in on him this summer, she rationalizes. 

The end of the year banquet goes off without a hitch. They win the house cup, but not the quidditch tournament (There’s always next year). She doesn’t go down to the train station, but she stands in front of the castle and watches Harry climb into the carriage and get pulled away from the school with a mounting feeling of dread in her stomach. Before she knows it, he’s disappeared from sight completely.


	2. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minerva remembers the last time she was on this street, standing careful sentinel over the house with the screaming child and the nosey mother while the rest of the world celebrated in plain view. She had found it hard to muster cheer, back then. Not when the war had taken so many already. She’s finding her circumstances equally uncheerful this time around as well.
> 
> She walks up the driveway of number 4, eyeing neat rows of carefully pruned flowers, and knocks on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight content warning for physical child abuse this chapter. Nothing graphic, but it's implied.

It’s nearing July when Minerva finally gets around to visiting Privet Drive. The end of the term is always such a busy time, what with finishing up grades, sending letters home, and clearing out her classroom. Plus, she wanted to give Harry a little time to settle in back home. It made her nervous to be going directly against Dumbledore’s orders like this and interacting with his muggle relatives, but she was hoping a quick home visit would settle that feeling in her gut. She just wanted to see with her own eyes that everything is okay, and then she’d be able to go on her way with none the wiser. 

\----

Minerva remembers the last time she was on this street, standing careful sentinel over the house with the screaming child and the nosey mother while the rest of the world celebrated in plain view. She had found it hard to muster cheer, back then. Not when the war had taken so many already. She’s finding the circumstances of her visit equally uncheerful this time around as well.

She walks up the driveway of number 4, eyeing neat rows of carefully pruned flowers, and knocks on the door.

Minerva recognizes the face of that shrill woman from 12 years ago, albeit with a few more wrinkles this time around. The woman is wearing an apron over her dress, and opens the door with a polite smile, only to change into what could be described as a fearful snoul as she took in the stranger on her front steps in an emerald cloak and hat.

“Vernon, come quick” She turns and calls down the hall, panic in her voice.

“What is it?” Calls back a lumbering man with no neck and a grumpy looking expression as he walks to the front door to see McGonagall.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, before McGonagall could even get her introduction in. “We don’t want anything to do with your sort!”

The door slams in her face. Minerva takes a minute to gather herself after that rather aggressive encounter. What on earth did that mean by “Your sort”? Surely he didn’t mean witches? That wouldn't make any sense. At least, not unless these people were exceptionally uncaring for the boy under their roof. Squaring her shoulders, she knocks again. Vernon swings the door open,

“I thought I told you to leave!” He shouted

“Well, I really must insist you allow me in” Minerva responds, losing her patience somewhat. Remembering their pristine flower bed and perfectly matching house, she acts on a haunch. Arching her eyebrow and raising her voice slightly, “unless, of course, you don’t mind the neighbors seeing you interact with ‘my sort’ as you say. I’d rather not make a scene if I don't have to, but I assure you I am very capable of doing so, should you slam the door in my face again”.

Sure enough, this seems to do the trick, as Vernon quickly swings his head left and right to make sure none of the neighbors were peeking out their windows, before stepping out of the way, and awkwardly gesturing that she should come in with a jerk of his head.

The hallway of the house is exactly what she had expected. Clean and sparsely decorated. A quick scan of the walls revealed several hung photographs of the two adults and a shockingly large blond child, but none - she noted - included the sharp pitch of black hair that would indicate Harry. Her eyes wandered to the cupboard under the stairs - which included a grate and - to her shock - a lock on the outside. 

“Well, what do you want?” The demanding voice of Vernon drags her focus back to the muggles in front of her. The woman - Petunia, if Minerva remembers correctly - is hiding directly behind her husband, and she can see the son from the photographs standing with his mouth open and staring from the kitchen behind them.

“I’m one of your nephew’s professors from Hogwarts - Minerva McGonagall - since you didn’t ask” She levels them with a glare, “I’m here to talk to Mr. Potter. Where is he?”

“Out”

“Out where?” She asks, suspicion creeping into her voice.

Probably just wandering the streets, causing problems”

Well that didn’t sound like the Harry she had come to know at all.

“When will he be back?” She demands.

“How should I know?” Vernon responds.

Just as it seemed as though Vernon was going to try to make her leave again, the sliding back door opened and Harry stepped inside, wearing gardening gloves and muddy jeans. “Sorry, I thought I heard shouting…” Harry trailed off as he looked up and saw his professor standing in a rather defensive position, facing his aunt and uncle.

Minerva prided herself on being a very tactful and reasonable witch, but as Harry looks up and makes eye contact with her, she feels her wand slide out of her sleeve and fall into her shaking fist. There - on Harry’s left side, is a giant black eye.

“How did you get that bruise?” She demands in way of greeting.

“He got it falling down the stairs” Vernon says, moving to place his hand so tightly on Harry's shoulder that she can see him flinch a little at the pressure “Isn’t that right, boy?”

“Yes, Uncle” Harry agrees, looks up at the professor. His bright green eyes, the ones that Minerva had once associated with Lilly Evans, but whose curiosity and humor she now saw as purely Harry’s, were glazed over and fearful.

It took every ounce of willpower she had not to hex these despicable muggles into something unforgivable right on the spot.

Gathering her composure, but with her first still tightly wrapped around her wand and visible to these despicable muggles, she turned to Harry, her only thoughts focused on getting the boy out of this house and to safety.

“Harry, how would you like to spend the rest of the summer at my house?” 

“Really?” Harry asked, a note of cautious disbelief in his voice.

“I know it's quite unusual, but given the circumstances” McGonagall continued, mistaking his disbelief for hesitancy.

“Professor, I’d love to” Harry cut her off.

“Very well” She nodded to herself, gathering her thoughts. “Go gather your things. I just want to have a word with your aunt and uncle”.

Harry hesitated for a moment, looking between his professor and his aunt and uncle, then quickly swept out of the room.

The moment he’s gone, McGonagall turns back to the muggles, and raises her wand. They flinch back. Good. McGonagall doesn't believe in using her magic to harm muggles, but in this case, they should be scared. “Dumbledore put this boy in your care, and expected you to treat him like family, and this is what you do? You tow are a disgrace. I ought to give you a taste of your own medicine right here and now”

“Now, I’ll have you know...” Vernon starts to defend himself, but swiftly closes his mouth when McGonagall points her wand at him and takes a step closer.

“I’ve heard just about enough from the two of you. I’ll be taking Potter with me, and it’ll be the last time you ever see the boy, if I have my way. You’ll be hearing from Dumbledore, when I tell him what's happened here”

At that moment, Harry clears his throat to let McGonagall know he’s back in the room. She lowers her wand and turns around. He’s got his Hogwarts trunk in one hand, with his broom thrown over it, and his snowy owl tucked into his cage in the other hand.

“Is that everything? You won't be back here before school starts”.

“Yes, Professor”.

“Very well” She nods, already noting how many things she’s going to have to buy the boy, if his whole life fits into a trunk so easily. “Come on, then”.

They walk out of the house, Harry not saying a word to his relatives as he leaves. McGonagall offers out her arm when they reach the street, which after a moment, Harry hesitantly takes. 

“Now, have you ever apparated before?” Harry shakes his head. “Okay, hold on tightly to my arm, Harry. It’s very important you don’t let go”

And with a crack, The two disappear from Privet Drive for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving all the Kudos on the first chapter guys :) I know the Harry Potter fandom has a lot of fics to choose from, so thanks for choosing to spend a moment of your day with mine. If you wanna find me on Tumblr, I just created a new blog for my fanfics, its only-happyendings. Send me a message with a fic request and I'll probably write it for ya!


	3. Minerva's House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for discussion of child abuse. Nothing worse than what you've read so far

And just like that, they were on the outskirts of Hogsmead, facing a walkway up to the quaint little two story cottage Minerva called home in the summer months. Minerva still held tightly onto Harry’s arm, not quite ready to fully release him from her grasp after what had just happened. Harry shifted, and catching him wince out of the corner of her eye, and she quickly unwraps her hand and steps away. This was concerning. Harry was clearly more hurt than he was letting on.  
Clearing her throat, she gestured in front of herself and started walking “Come on then. Let’s get you inside”

They entered the house, Harry looking around in open awe. McGonagall smiled; It was the least guarded she had seen his expression all day, so she allowed him a moment to take it all in. 

The front door opened up into a tidy yet cozy kitchen, with a small breakfast table that fit two and shelves lined with all sorts of herbs and spices. On top of a tiny stove, a teapot that had sensed their arrival began to steam and whistle, and two tea cups jumped off the shelf and shuffled over eagerly to be filled with hot water. A large window let in the sunshine and faced the garden out back. Connected to the kitchen is a library, shelves lining all the walls and stacked with an array of books, both old and new. Along one wall was a fireplace, and facing it were two plush red armchairs that bore a resemblance to the ones found in the Gryffindor common room. Minerva gestured for Harry to take a seat.

“Here, have a cup of tea”, she gently places one of the hot mugs in front of him. “I’m just going to go fix up a room for you”. 

There’s three rooms upstairs, Minerva's bedroom, a bathroom, and a room she had been using as a part time storage and part time potions room. With a bit of transfiguration, that would work nicely, she figures. Most of the objects in the room are floated over to her bedroom, to be dealt with later. She then uses what's left to create new furniture - A four poster bed, a wardrobe, a desk and chair, and a rug, all with red and gold accents (She figures he’d like that). On the side of the wardrobe she fits a rack for his broom. In the corner of the room, she adds a large standing perch for his owl, with an attached food and water bowl. Nodding to herself at her work, she summons his luggage from downstairs and sets it nicely in the corner, opening up the owls cage and setting her down on the stand. There’s no reason for an owl to be cooped up like that when she doesn’t have to be.

She’s still going to need to buy him clothes and other necessities, judging by the look of the worn jeans and the overly large grey t-shirt he was currently wearing, but this would be a good start.

She calls Harry upstairs to show him his new room, waves off his unnecessary thanks, and gives him a moment to settle while she gets busy preparing some dinner. When she’s alone, Minerva likes to eat healthy meals; Often having a salad or some lean meat for dinner, but she couldn’t help but notice how skinny Harry was earlier. Almost as skinny as he had been when he first came to Hogwarts, his bones jutting out with an awkward and unnatural sharpness. A whole year of work undone, all by those lousy muggles. She’s positive they weren’t letting him have enough food, but she’s not going to bring that up and make him uncomfortable right now. Its a topic for another day. Instead, she throws together what she has in her cabinets and creates a hearty beef stew for the two of them. 

She serves two bowls, as well as some nice sliced bread, onto the table, and calls Harry down from his new room for Dinner.

“It looks amazing, professor” Harry comments, sitting across from her.

“Please, you're in my house eating a meal with me. Professor feels far too professional. When we are not in school, you may call me Minerva” She offers with a small smile, which Harry returns.

“Okay then, Minerva”.

Harry waits until Minerva takes her first bite, and then inhales his meal before she’s even halfway done with hers.

“You may go get seconds, if you'd like”, She says, looking up to find him watching her uncertainly. 

Harry nods and refills his bowl, eating it this time at a slower yet still very hungry pace. This only cements in Minerva’s mind how hungry Harry must have been, and she feels her hatred for the Dursley’s grow with every new piece of information she gathers. 

Once dinner is over, Harry gets up and tries to clear away their dishes, but McGonagall tells him to stay seated, and simply flicks her wand. The dishes rise off the table and float lazily towards the sink. There were some conversations that needed to be had, sooner rather than later. With a sigh, she pushes forward

“Harry, we need to talk about this” She gestures to his black eye. Realizing what she’s talking about, Harry's cheeks flush red with embarrassment. He suddenly becomes very interested in staring at the table, refusing to look at her, and not willing to say anything.

“This doesn’t seem like the kind of injury you get from falling down the stairs. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Harry shakes his head, still staring at the table

“Very well, you don’t need to talk. But I still need the truth from you Harry. Did you get this injury from falling down the stairs?”

Harry is still for a moment, and then slowly shakes his head, no.

“Was it your relatives?”

A nod yes this time

“Your cousin?”

No

“Your uncle?”

Yes

“Harry, did your uncle hit you?” Minerva asked in a very gentle voice

Another nod yes.

“Uncle Vernon.. He.. He loses his temper sometimes. He doesn’t like it when magic happens or when I do freaky things, or when my chores aren’t done right, or sometimes when he’s just in a bad mood...” Harry speaks up, stuttering slightly in his nervousness.

McGonagall feels her heart break in two for her little lion. She had already pieced as much together, but hearing it come out of Harry’s mouth hurt more, somehow. She reached out a hand and held Harry’s, trying to convey emotional support. Harry squeezed her hand back, seeming to appreciate it. She pushes forward with her questions.

“Are you injured anywhere else?”

“It's not the first time I’ve upset him this summer” Harry mumbles

“That's not an answer, Harry. Are you injured right now? I need to know if I should call Madam Pomfrey”

At this Harry finally looks up, an indignant look on his face. A little bit of the Gryffindor shining through.

“I don’t need that! I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, Professor.. I mean Minerva”

At this point, Minerva can feel herself getting a little misty eyed at this whole conversation. “You’re only 11 years old, Harry. it shouldn't be your job to take care of yourself.”

Someone should have noticed and done something sooner, she thinks miserably. I should have noticed and done something sooner. No 11 year old should feel as though they don’t need an adult's help with things like this.

Harry grows visibly uncomfortable at the sight of his professor looking so upset. He squirms a little in his seat, before agreeing. “Okay”

“Okay?”

“I’ll see Madam Pomfrey, professor…. Minerva. If it’ll help make you feel better”

Minerva smiles and nods her thanks.

After their conversation, she gives Harry a tour of the rest of the house. She has an expansive book collection in her library, which Harry asks if he can read. McGonagall agrees, and also offers to help him with his summer work, if he hasn't finished it. Harry confesses that he hasn’t started it, as it was locked in the closet all summer. McGonagall lights a fire in the fireplace and serves some tea. They both work in peaceful quiet for some time, Harry interrupting every now and then to ask a question about his homework. Eventually bedtime rolls around. McGonagall makes him promise to tell her if he needs anything else. He thanks her and heads up to bed.

Shortly after, McGonagall heads to her own room to decompress from the whirlwind of emotions that the day had been. She sits at her desk and pulls out two roles of parchment. The first she addresses to her friend, the school medical witch.

Poppy,

I apologize for the late hour of my owl. I was hoping you would be able to make time in your schedule for a house visit tomorrow. I normally wouldn’t ask with such little warning, but I’m afraid it's of a rather urgent matter, regarding a student. I’ll explain more in person. Best,

Minerva

The second letter is written with a scowl on McGonagall’s face

Dumbledore,

Mr. Potter is at my house, where I intend to keep him for the rest of the summer. I paid him a visit at the Dursely’s house, only to find the boy beaten and starved. I am only telling you this out of courtesy. I am not asking permission. We need to talk.

McGonagall

She sends both off with her owl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, consider leaving a comment!


	4. Poppy's Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pomfrey pays Harry a visit, and Harry learns about a new ability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update! Life got a little crazy for a moment, between school and health issues. I'm feeling great now though! All the lovely comments on the last chapter absolutely made my week. I threw some good fluff in this chapter to thank you all for sticking with me. Even more fluff to come!

Minerva is typically an early riser, but when she wakes up the next morning, she can already hear the gentle rustling of someone moving around in the kitchen downstairs. She throws a gown on over her pajamas and heads downstairs. 

Harry is in the kitchen, as she expected. The sun is barely up, but he’s already dressed (in another pair of those awful baggy muggle jeans), and it looks like he’s created a feast big enough to feed the entire Great Hall. Laying out on the kitchen table are scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, baked beans, fried tomatoes, toast and jam, and a hot cup of tea. 

“Sorry Professor” Harry greeted, walking out of the kitchen and wringing his hands nervously “I wasn’t sure what you wanted for breakfast, so I put together a bit of everything I could find…”

“This is fantastic Harry” Minerva smiled, trying to calm his nervous energy “And once again, you may call me Minerva. Although really, you didn’t have to do all this. I would be more than happy to make breakfast in the future”.

“Oh... alright” Harry seemed confused by this. 

“Something on your mind?” Minerva asked, wondering about his tone as she took two plates out of the cupboard and set them out on the table.

“No. I mean I guess? It’s just that I always cook breakfast for the Dursley’s so I guess I thought it might be the same here”.

“Well this is hardly the Dursleys. Come, sit and eat”.

Seemingly startled at her calling him to the table, he joins Minerva at the table. Minerva dishes up some eggs and toast for herself. Harry puts a piece of toast and two slices of bacon on his own plate. Minerva sends him a stern look for his practically empty plate, and stacks another piece of toast and some eggs on as well. Harry smiles up at her and once again inhales everything. After breakfast, McGonagall gets up and starts putting dishes in the sink. Harry stands up and starts to help her.

“Sit down, Harry”

“But, Minerva”

“Sit, Harry. You made us such a wonderful breakfast. It’s only fair that I clean up. Everybody pitches in in this house”.

Harry clearly seems unhappy about it, but Minerva can be stubborn too. She does all the dishes by hand instead of magic, just so that he’d have to sit and watch an adult help out for once.

\---

An hour after breakfast, there's a knock at the door. Minerva opens the door to find Poppy standing there, medical case in hand.

“Minerva! I came as soon as I got your letter. What's this about a student?” She asked, already moving past McGonagall and into the house. Her eyes land on Harry, who's standing in the kitchen looking awkward and unsure of what he should be doing.

“Mr. Potter! Ah, I should have guessed! Fallen off a broom again, have you?”

“Ah, no, not this time” Harry responds, rubbing the back of his neck and looking awkward. 

“May I have a word with you in private, Poppy?” Minerva cuts in, guiding Poppy by her elbow upstairs into her bedroom.

“Yes of course Minerva dear”.

As soon as they walk out of earshot, Poppy turns to Minerva, questions on her face. “Now, what's going on? Why is Mr. Potter at your house?”.

“I noticed some concerning habits this school year, so I paid Harry a visit yesterday. What I saw of his treatment by his aunt and uncle gave me cause to take him out of the house immediately”.

“I see” Poppy responded, her eyes darkening immediately. 

“He’s clearly underfed and underweight,” Minerva continued, “as well as physically injured. His uncle hit him, though I don’t know to what extent. I’m also starting to think they made him do all the cooking and yard work, on top of everything else!”.

“I see” Poppy practically growled. “You're a good woman, Minerva. It's a good thing that boy had you looking out for him. Imagine! Hurting a child! I’ll have to do a full physical exam to see the extents of the damage myself, of course”.

Minerva nodded, expecting as much. “There's something else, Poppy. Harry is very important to Dumbledore. There's no way he didn’t know what was going on in that house. I’m not letting him go back there, but I’m also expecting I may have to put up a bit of a fight in that regard. I trust, after you see what I’ve seen, that you’ll have my back on this matter?”.

“My first loyalty is always to the children. You know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep our young Mr. Potter safe” Poppy agreed, a fierce look of understanding passing between the two woman. “I’ll document his injuries extensively, just to be safe”.

With that, the two women head back downstairs. Poppy takes Harry into the library, and Minerva goes outside, wanting to give Harry some sense of privacy. Half an hour later, everybody rejoins at the kitchen table. 

Clearing her throat, Poppy starts; “Well, the list of injuries is extensive. Harry has bruised ribs, multiple open lacerations on his back, a minor concussion, and a broken ankle that hasn’t healed correctly. It’ll have to be reset and put in a cast. On top of that, he is severely malnourished, and he’ll be needing new glasses, as well as ALL of his vaccinations”

Minerva feels slightly sick the longer Poppy goes on.

“All of them? Harry, when was the last time you went to a doctor?” she practically whispers, her voice quiet from shock from everything Poppy said.

“Umm.. never?” Harry responds, staring at his lap and refusing to make eye contact.

“I’ll be back tomorrow with the first round of vaccines and some potions to help with the malnourishment. I'll be resetting his leg then as well. In the meantime, I recommend three hearty meals a day and no physical exercise for the foreseeable future.

Poppy and Minerva exchange a look, both only just beginning to understand the extent to which Harry will need to heal. Minerva thanks Poppy for her time and sees her to the door. She has a feeling they’ll be seeing a fair amount of each other this summer, and perhaps longer, if Minerva has anything to say about it.

\------

Minerva has a large garden in the back of her cottage. It’s filled with all kinds of greenery, both regular and magical, as well as a small little sitting pavilion. One particularly nice day, the two of them are sitting outside enjoying the summer sun, when Harry breaks the silence by pointed out one of the bushes near them 

“Your hydrangeas have some brown spotting on the leafs”

“Oh?” McGonagall asked, putting down her book to see what the boy was talking about.

“Yeah, right there, see? It’s probably just bacteria. It's pretty common on these kinds of plants. If you keep the ground under the hydrangea free from leaf debris and cut off the old stems, it should allow air to circulate through the plant better and they'll go away”

This was the most laid back and unstressed around her that Minerva had ever seen Harry act - and it was about plants! How strange, she thought to herself.

“How interesting. Thank you for telling me. Unfortunately, I’m only here in the summers, so I have very little time to tend to it. I rather let my garden do what it wants and hope for the best”, she responds, intent on returning to her reading

Harry perked up at this, “Well, I could do it professor! I wouldn’t mind at all”

“Now Harry,” Minerva meets his gaze with a stern look “I thought we had already established this, but I won’t have you going around my house acting like a house elf”

“No. This isn’t like that, I promise!” Harry smiled at her. “I’d love to help out. I love gardening. My aunt always made me take care of the garden back at Privet Drive, she liked it because she didn’t have to see me for a few hours, but I actually liked it for the same reason. It was a good time for me to relax and just focus on making something pretty. I’m good at it, too” Harry added, a touch of pride in his voice. 

“Very well,” McGonagall agreed. He seemed genuine in his desire to tend to the garden, and it would be good for the boy to have something to do while he recovered, she supposed. Even if it was an odd thing for a 12 year old boy to enjoy, there was no harm in it.

“Oh! Thank you!” Harry broke out into such a happy grin that Minerva instantly knew she had made the right decision.

“Would it be alright if I planted some things over by that tree? I know it's not a garden bed, but it's got a really nice balance of sun and shade, and I think with some work…”

“You can do whatever you want with the back yard. I daresay I don’t use it enough to have strong opinions”.

“Thanks” Harry smiled again, already getting up to start scanning the yard. “It’ll be really nice not to have to plant everything in straight rows for once.”

And just like that, the summer of planting began. Between homework and meal times, Harry could often be found quietly working in the garden, digging holes or tending to the slowly recovering plants.

One day, Harry approaches Minerva and asks if they could make an excursion to a plant store. This was the first time Harry had directly asked McGonagall for anything. She agrees immediately, excited to see so much emotional progress in such a short time. First they apparate to a muggle store, where Harry picks out carts full of different plants, as well as bags of fertilizer, gardening tools, and a little cat statue he insists looks just like her. McGonagall surprises Harry by taking him to a magical greenhouse next, run in the summer months by Pomona Sprout, Hogwarts’ resident herbology professor. Sprout gives Minerva an initial confused look at the presence of her new ward, but Harry soon enraptures her with a conversation about the pros and cons of different magical plants for a backyard garden, while McGonagall bides her time wandering around and looking at the different flowers.

Before her eyes, the backyard transforms from a few small flower beds into a green oasis, with flowers and plants of all sizes and colors blooming together in harmony and forming a practical jungle. 

One evening, McGonagall is wandering through the garden, admiring the giant purple flowers that have begun to bloom in the shape of an arch, when she spots Harry kneeling by a bush, apparently having a conversation with someone. Thinking he had found a garden gnome or perhaps a fairy, she walked closer and bent down, only to jump out of her skin when she sees a 3 foot long garden snake staring back at her.

“Harry! What are you doing! Move back!”, she yells, yanking Harry out of harm's way.

“It’s just a garden snake, professor. She wouldn’t hurt me, would you?” Harry asks, turning back to the snake, and letting out a soft hissing noise.

McGonagall feels her heart in her throat as she listens to Harry hiss at a snake with all the calmness of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.

“What are you doing?” She demands

“Just talking to the snake and telling her she’s safe. You scared her when you moved so quickly” Harry responded.

It takes McGonagall a moment to collect her thoughts and respond without yelling.

“Are you saying you can understand this snake? That it can understand you?”

Harry shoots her a concerned look. “Of course it can. She was just talking, couldn’t you hear that?”.

“No, Harry. I couldn’t. Most witches and wizard can’t understand snakes”

“Not even magical ones? I kind of just assumed this was a magical snake”

“Not even magical snakes can talk. Not unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you’re a parseltongue” 

“A parseltongue? What’s that”

“A witch or wizard who has the ability to talk to snakes. They're very rare, and associated with Slytherin.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. Why would I be a parseltongue if it's a Slytherin thing?” Harry asked, confusion lacing his voice. “Were my parents parseltongues?”

Minerva shook her head; “I don't know, Harry. I really don’t know”.

“But… it's not a bad thing - to be a parseltongue - is it?”

“No, of course not” Minerva was quick to assure him. “You’re not a bad kid, and nothing you can do is inherently bad. That being said, I would be careful who you disclose the information of this ability to. The wizarding world can still be a very prejudiced place, I’m afraid.”

“Okay” Harry agreed, still looking concerned. “Err… I’m going to go back to planting now, if that's alright?”

McGonagall agreed and went back inside to find something stronger than tea to drink. The longer Harry was around, the more questions she had.

It wasn’t the last time that summer that the snake came around looking for her new friend.

\---

On the weekends, Harry likes to explore Hogsmeade. The only other magical place he had ever been is Diagon Alley, and he likes seeing all the new stores and places. He often comes home with his pockets stuffed with candies or small tricks from Zonkos. Minerva tells him when he becomes a third year, he’ll get to visit the village on weekends with all of his schoolmates. 

\--

As much fun as Harry has gardening, she can still tell he is growing bored. One day, Minerva gets hit with an idea.

“Why don’t you write to your friends Weasley and Granger and invite them over to stay for a weekend?” The three of them were inseparable their first year, and it would be nice for Harry to have some kids his own age to hang out with. She can’t imagine even the most mature child would enjoy spending their entire summer in the company of one old witch. To her surprise, Harry grows sad at her suggestion. 

“That would be nice, I guess, but I doubt they’d want to come. I’m not even sure if they want to be my friends anymore. They didn’t answer a single one of my letters this summer.”

Minerva finds this very suspicious indeed. From what she could tell, there was no reason for that to be. She wonders if perhaps the owls were having trouble getting to Private Drive. She herself had trouble sending his Hogwarts letters there the year prior. 

“Why don’t you give it one more try? I’m sure your friends have a fine explanation for not answering your letters, just as I’m sure they'd love to see you”

“You really think so?” Harry asked, nervous but hopeful.

“Yes, I really do. Go ahead and invite them. Use my owl as well. Maybe Hedwig is having problems getting your letters across”.

“Okay! I will!” Harry jumps up, reinvigorated at the idea of talking to his friends, and runs up the stairs to get started on his letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed more than one person shipping Harry/Hermione in the comments. Her and Ron are coming soon! Is that something you guys would like to see? (They're both 12 so it would be very PG, crush style stuff if I did it)
> 
> Also, I'm trying to brainstorm something better and more casual for Harry to call McGonagall then Minerva. Thoughts?


	5. Ron and Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Hermione come to visit, Harry gets a birthday gift from McGonagall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for a panic attack

One morning, two weeks after Harry came to live with her - Minerva wakes up to silence in the house for the first time. Harry is still asleep. She smiles and makes him a cup of tea and some porridge when he wakes up. He thanks her groggily, hair mussed up and still in his pajamas. They have a quiet morning, both enjoying the contentment of the moment.

After breakfast, Harry reaches to grab the plates and bring them to the sink. Unfortunately, he was slightly off balance, and the plate dropped out of his hand and shattered on the floor with a deafening clatter. Minerva gets up from her seat, intent to repair the dish with her wand, when she notices Harry. He’s gone pale as a sheet, eyes glazed over as he chants “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” over and over again.

“Harry” Minerva called softly, instantly worried. She moved her hand out to comfort him, only to pull it back immediately when he flinches away and backs up to the wall, sliding down to clutch his knees, still chanting. 

Minerva feels her panic increase as she watches his breathing become more and more erratic. She tries calling him several more times, but he doesn’t seem to be able to hear her or respond, and she’s afraid to get closer and scare him again. Thinking quickly, she shifts into her cat form and walks up to him, gently bumping her head against his shoulder. Harry seems to notice her, and after another moment of heavy breathing, reaches out a hand and strokes the fur on her head. Minerva purrs encouragingly and gently climbs into his lap, where he wraps his arms around her and begins to sob. They sit like that for a long while, until Harry is all out of tears and seems to have come fully back to himself. After a while, he shifts and mutters a thank you, and McGonagall climbs off his lap and walks across the room to turn back into a human. 

Harry lets her approach him, this time as a human, and she wraps her arms around him in a tight hug.

“It’s alright Harry. It’s alright. Here, look” She waves her wand and the plate is fixed immediately, flying to stack itself away on a shelf. “I will never, ever hurt you for making a mistake, okay? I promise. You’re allowed to make mistakes. It’s okay”. 

Harry doesn’t say anything, just hugs her back and nods into her chest.

That night, as Harry is getting ready for bed, he crosses the hall and knocks on Minerva's door. 

“Is everything alright?” She asks, instantly concerned.

“Yes. Everything's great. I was just, um… I was wondering if maybe you could become a cat again?” Harry asks, looking nervous.

“Of course” McGonagall smiles, shifting into a cat as she follows him to his room. Harry climbs into bed and she jumps up and lays on his chest, softly purring until Harry falls asleep, his arms gently wrapped around her. They both sleep deeply the whole night.

\------

A week or so later, Ron and Hermione arrive for a sleepover. The letters Harry has sent were replied to almost immediately, both children relieved to hear that Harry was doing well. Apparently, they had both sent multiple letters over the summer, none of which had been received by Harry, to confusion on all sides. Harry seems overjoyed to hear back from his friends and what they have been up to this summer (Harry tells her in his excitement that Ron and his brothers snuck out of the house and flew around in their dad's enchanted car. They apparently got into a ton of trouble. McGonagall decides its best to turn a blind eye to the blatant misuse of magic, in this instance).

The two arrive from the Burrow by floo powder, and at first seem awkward to be at a professor's house, but quickly warm up to McGonagall when they realize she acts just like any other parent. During the day they explore Hogsmeade or sneak off to the surrounding fields to play quidditch. In the evenings, Harry and Ron play wizard's chess against each other and occasionally Minerva. She’s constantly impressed with Ron’s strategic mind. She supposes it's not surprising. He managed to defeat her chess board enchantment protecting the sorcerer's stone only a few months prior, after all. 

Hermione, in her excitement, has brought all her summer homework, hoping to get McGonagall to read over it. Ron and Harry mock their friend for it, but McGonagall simply assures Ms. Granger that her work would be exceptional, as always, and lends her some higher level transfiguration books to read in the meantime.

In the evening, they pitch an enchanted tent in the yard. It brings great joy to Minerva to see lights shining from the tent and hear the sounds of laughter late into the warm summer night. It's good for the kids to have some fun. They all deserve it, especially Harry.

\------

The summer passes in a blur, and before McGonagall knows it it's the end of July, and Harry’s birthday is upon them.

She sends letters out to some old students, and eventually gets a hit - a 5th year student in 1978 had been given a brand new camera for Christmas and had been taking photos of students around Hogwarts all that year - He happened to have saved them in an old box, and was happy to search them for a picture of a certain couple.

The picture features the castle grounds on what appears to be a warm spring day. A man who looks like an aged up version of Harry is throwing a broken snitch back and forth to a man with long black wavy hair. He keeps attempting to subtly look behind him at a tree to see if the redhead reading a book there is noticing him. He gets hit in the side of the head by the snitch while he is looking away and the redhead laughs. On the side of the picture, two other boys the same age are standing at the edge of the lake, poking a tentacle of the giant squid with a stick and laughing. 

“That's my mom and dad” Harry smiles, staring at the picture in awe. “I’ve seen them before in a picture from Hagrid and also from the mirror”

“The mirror?”

“Oh, err, nevermind… Hey, who's the guy my dads throwing the snitch to?”

A dark look crosses over Minerva's face, the kind Harry had only seen when he brought up the Dursleys. 

“That's Sirius Black. And that” she gestures to the two boys by the lake “is Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. They were all good friends with your parents”.

“Wow” Harry said, gently tracing the people with his thumb

“Are they still alive? Do you think I’d ever be able to meet them? I’d love to know more about who my parents were.” McGonagall wants to shut him down immediately, but taking one look at his earnest expression and big eyes, she doesn’t have the heart to do so.

“I may be able to get a hold of Lupin, but he’s out of the country, and I can’t make any promises Harry. He was very hurt by what happened with your parents, and I don’t know how willing he’ll be to talk about them”.

“But you’ll try?” Harry asks, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

“I’ll send an owl” she confirms. The poor boy needs more adults in his life, and Lupin grew into a good man, despite his struggles. In truth, she's struggling with how much of the truth to tell a 12 year old boy about the other men in the picture. She supposes he has a right to know. Sirius is, after all, still his godfather. What she does know is she’ll be six feet under before she lets Harry anywhere near that man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small lil bonus fluffy chapter cause I love you guys :) The next chapter will be more plot driven.


End file.
